Ascension (11 page)

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Authors: Sable Grace

BOOK: Ascension
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She should let him go. Whatever trouble he was looking to find, he could handle on his own.

She sighed, and followed the path he’d taken. She wasn’t going to stick her nose where it didn’t belong, but she owed it to him to at least make sure he wasn’t killed.

R
yker stalked down St. George Street, no calmer now than he’d been when he’d left Ky. The concern on her face was burned into his brain. Anger, self-loathing, and sheer frustration hummed beneath his skin, making him antsy. He sure as hell wasn’t going to beat himself up, but he’d find something to take his anger out on before he rested for the night.

It wasn’t just the helplessness he’d experienced on that island that had him so eager to crack a head or two, though, granted, that was a huge portion of the adrenaline rushing through him now. He’d wanted to take part in that fight so badly, keeping his distance had almost hurt more than the physical pain the Vampyre had caused. But while the anger over not being able to fight for the first time in his life was still palpable, it was Kyana that had his blood pumping more.

He had to have her. Soon. But how did he take what he wanted from her and still keep true to his beliefs?

Ryker jogged around a corner, passing a ransacked ice cream parlor, and kept on. With so many abandoned businesses, it was the perfect spot to look for trouble. Sunrise was a good half hour away. If he was lucky, he’d find a band of Dark Breeds looking for a place to sleep away the day. He’d take out his frustration on them with pleasure.

The smell of the urine hit his nose minutes before he spotted the small band of Dark Breeds breaking into a popular bar and grill. Grinning, Ryker crouched and softened his steps, quietly closing in on the demons as they threw themselves through a window.

It wouldn’t have taken any effort on his part to pick them off one at a time, but he wanted a fight. A long, dirty, someone-had-to-bleed kind of fight to release the pent-up emotions he’d held to so tightly since they’d entered that damned hellhole on Cronos’s island. Since Kyana had shifted back to Vampyre and had given him way more than a teasing glimpse of her body. He twitched, his pulsing blood making it difficult to push that image from his mind. By the time he finally managed, he’d given the demons just enough time to move away from the window. He entered behind them and blocked their escape.

Four sets of black eyes turned to face him.

The first thing he taught his men was to never take on even one lone Dark Breed on their own. They were too unpredictable, their powers never quite clear if you weren’t certain what breeds they consisted of. Better to come back with friends than have a search party sent to retrieve your body. Since he never asked his men to do something he himself wouldn’t do, he’d never broken that rule. Today would be an exception. “Looks like you picked the wrong building to break into.”

The biggest of the group let out a throaty growl.

Feeling cocky, Ryker beckoned the big guy forward.

The boss grunted to his minions. With a lethal-looking grin, he tilted his head back and revealed his retracted fangs. Sharp claws stretched from beneath the demon’s black-blue hands and its naked body shivered in delight as a set of nasty, thin wings broke loose on its back. It had gone from resembling a human to looking almost like Icky.

A Hatchling. Ryker studied it, unable to help his fascination. He hadn’t seen one of these since the turn of the century. The children of the dragons of Tartarus had almost become nothing more than legend.

When it looked at Ryker again, its black eyes had gone stark white. Feeding time.

Ryker could have fended off the demon with just a look, but he let it run until it was within arm’s reach. No weapons. No god powers. Just brute force.

He easily dodged the slow swings, taunting the demon before drawing back his fist. The sound of breaking bone brought only a moment of relief. He looked from the unconscious beast on the floor to his buddies, slightly disappointed that it had gone down so easily. “Is that the best you got?”

With growls of outrage, the second and third rushed him at once. The fourth stretched out its wings and flew straight over Ryker’s head to land behind him. Ryker pivoted, thrust his fist through the flyer’s face, pulling back bits of sinew and bone. The beast crumpled to the ground before the other two could even reach him. These, he would take down more slowly. Would make the fight last until he was too exhausted to think about weakness or women.

Ryker lost track of how long the fight raged on. The Hatchlings seemed to sense that Ryker was playing with them, seemed to know they should be dead by now. And knowing this seemed to intensify their fear. He could smell it on them as strongly as he could smell their urine stench. They watched him, waiting to see what his next move would be. He flexed his fingers, giving them time to decide if they wanted to continue the fight or run. Not that he was going to let them run, but still, it would be sweeter to kill them if they thought they might slip away.

One of the two left attempted to take flight. As it passed overhead, Ryker reached up and caught it around the neck. With a roar, he twisted. The sound of neck bones shattering filled the now silent restaurant. He dropped the body to the ground. Turning slowly, he faced the lone survivor.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Kyana’s voice spun Ryker around. She loomed in the broken window, her gaze darting from one fallen Hatchling to the next. The survivor took Ryker’s distraction as its chance to escape, and made a mad dash toward another window. The moment the glass shattered, Ryker sighed and sent it a searing glare. His telekinetic power sent the Hatchling flying back into the bar.

“You almost cost me a kill,” he said, stalking to the bar and leaning over the wannabe escapee. “Get out of here, Ky.”

“The hell I will.” She leaped through the window, knocking loose glass onto the floor.

Saddened that this kill would have to be a quick one, Ryker grabbed the beast’s head in both of his hands and gave it one hard twist. Another broken neck. Not nearly the satisfaction he’d wanted. He shoved the body from the bar, then vaulted over the stools and counter. A moment later, he turned back to Kyana, holding a near-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a shot glass. He wasn’t a drinker. Looked like tonight was full of exceptions. Pouring most of the booze over his busted knuckles, he filled the shot glass with what remained.

“Are you still pissy that Icky affected you like he did?” Kyana stepped over body number two and eased onto a bar stool. Ryker glanced out the window to see the still-gray sky. No immediate threat of sunrise to spur her home. Damn his bad luck. She had a good twenty or thirty minutes before she’d
have
to leave him in peace.

Or shift.

Zeus, he didn’t want to go there again. If she shifted to Lychen, she’d eventually have to shift back. And when she shifted back . . . she’d be bare-ass naked to him again. Blood rushed to fill his loose jeans, and suddenly, they weren’t so loose anymore.

Ryker stayed behind the bar for cover.

“Looks like a mess of testosterone exploded in here,” Kyana said.

He shrugged. “I handled it.” He rubbed his knuckles and tried not to stare at the way her white tank top hugged her breasts. Even sweaty and dirty, he wanted her. “Thought you were going home.”

“Thought you were too.” She pointed to his bottle of booze. “Gods can’t drink. What are you doing?”

Her gaze fixated on his hands as he slowly turned the shot of Jack. “Half human, remember? Besides, gods can drink. They just . . . don’t.”

“Right.” She scanned the bar. Her gaze rested briefly on the demon’s body before returning to him. “Looks like I missed all the fun.”

That was the problem. She was way too concerned with
fun
all the time. He didn’t want to be anyone’s fun. He wasn’t built that way. He eased back over the bar and nudged her thighs apart so he could stand between them. Maybe he
wasn’t
built to be anyone’s fun, but why couldn’t she be his? Just for one night? Tomorrow, he could kick his own ass, but tonight, he needed release and she was here, looking so tempting.

“You want fun. Let’s have fun.”

Not giving himself time to think, or her time to react, he gripped her shoulders and claimed her mouth. Her gasp of surprise gave him the entrance he sought to deepen the kiss. He ground his mouth over hers, giving her what she’d always said she wanted—rough, hot, and fast.

It took him a minute to realize her hands were pushing him away, not pulling him closer. He lifted his head and caught her eyes. “What? You don’t want this now?”

He leaned toward her. She turned her face away. “This isn’t you.”

“But it’s what you want. What you’ve been begging for since the night I met you.” He gripped her hips, lifting her from the bar stool to the bar, and pinned her in his arms. “I think I finally understand how it works now. No emotions. Just sex. And then we walk away. Right?”

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t.”

It wasn’t the pleading in her voice that brought him to his senses, but the fear in her eyes.

Stepping away from her, Ryker grabbed the shot of Jack and downed it before smashing the glass against the wall.

Kyana jumped, but remained where he’d left her. Ryker had been born fighting. Even before he’d known what he was, who his father was, he’d developed a reputation for himself. It was why Ares had claimed him instead of ignoring his existence the way he’d ignored his other bastards and Ryker’s mother when he’d raped her and left her pregnant and alone. But tonight, he’d broken all his rules when it came to engaging the enemy. He’d been stupid. Stupid for going out and looking for a fight. Stupid for facing down the demons alone. Stupid for letting his emotions rule his actions. He prided himself on his ability to control his anger, on not being anything like his father. Ryker saw the fear, the wariness still in Kyana’s eyes. Maybe it was true what they said about the apple not falling far from the tree.

“Go home, Ky.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” The calmness in her voice was forced. She was shaken. Regret tore at him.

She reached around the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and ignoring the tray of shot glasses in front of her, drank deeply.

“The sun’ll be up soon. Go.”

Kyana’s heart was pounding so loud, there was no way he couldn’t hear it. Whatever had gotten into him was scary. Not because he kissed her, but because he looked like he’d been possessed, like another person entirely. That wasn’t who she’d wanted to kiss. She liked it rough and hot, sure, but not forceful. She’d had her share of that, thank you very much.

She struggled to appear unfazed by Ryker’s sudden show of force and looked out the window. Faint rays of pink would soon sprinkle the clouds to the east. She couldn’t linger long, but there was still no need to panic. Besides, if worse came to worst, she could always shift and make her way home in Lychen form. Right now, she wanted answers from Ryker, but she didn’t think he was going to be compliant.

Her lips still tingled from his violent kiss. And as much as she’d liked it, the look in his eyes had scared the hell out of her. In her past life as a human, she’d thought she’d loved her sultan husband. But she’d been a young, naïve fifteen-year-old girl who hadn’t suspected he might turn that love into something ugly and violent. He’d used her that night, left her heartbroken and bloody. And the look she’d seen in Ryker’s eyes tonight had been very similar. His need to use her to take the edge off whatever he was feeling had turned her right back into that fifteen-year-old girl.

The difference between Ryker and Mehmet, however, was that Ryker had stopped. He wouldn’t hurt her, and even though she’d practically begged him to make love to her once, he wouldn’t assume she still wanted it when she said no.

For that reason alone, she stayed now, needing to make certain he was all right before she could leave him.

Ryker swayed on his feet. His eyes had a glazed sheen to them that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Are you . . . drunk?”

“Maybe.”

She frowned. “You were sober five seconds ago.”

He smiled, his grin lopsided and devilishly cute. A far cry from the angry, hostile Ryker who’d kissed her senseless. “Had a full one of these.” He shoved a shot glass in her direction.

“Wow. Impressive.” One shot and he was loaded. “Think I just found out why gods don’t drink.”

He gave new meaning to the phrase
cheap date
. Her gaze flittered toward the window. “Sun’s coming soon, Surfer Boy. I can’t sit here and babysit you, and if I have to shift, I’ll be out of commission for longer than we can spare.”

He didn’t seem to hear her. He leaned toward her and looked like he might topple off the stool. She caught him and held him upright.

“So?” He slurred the word, giving it far too many syllables. “Go.”

She had to go, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t just leave him here. He was too vulnerable and there were still Dark Breeds around. “Okay, cowboy. Let’s go. I’m taking you home.”

“How can I be a surfer
and
a cowboy?” He slid off the stool, allowing Kyana to slip her arm under his shoulder. He didn’t protest when she guided him around the tables to the door. “Make up your mind.”

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